


Exitlude

by Lauchme



Category: Voltron Force
Genre: Angst, Lance swears a lot, Leaving Home, M/M, Smoking, Vulnerability, there are metaphors in my metaphors im a pretentious asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 06:44:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16383287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauchme/pseuds/Lauchme
Summary: Keith is leaving to retrieve the Black Lion, a mission that might take him away from the team for years. Lance is struggling to cope with it; and in his own way, so is Keith.





	Exitlude

There were about a thousand things that Lance felt needed saying, yet he couldn’t bring himself to spit out even one of them. Brushing serious things off was his trademark, anyways.

 

“Think you can order take-out while you’re in deep cover? Looks like you’re _finally_ gonna have to learn to cook.”

 

Keith didn’t look directly at him, kept fussing with his voltcom, a blatantly false facsimile of concentration on his face. He _was_ listening, Lance could tell by the way his frown adjusted slightly. Not to mention the anxious, frenetic motions of his hands, looking for something, _anything_ else to do besides facing Lance and risk showing an emotion. Fucking _typical,_ Keith.

 

Lance scowled, pulled out a cigarette. If Keith was gonna keep acting like he didn’t give a shit, two could play that game. Besides, he needed to calm his _own_ nerves. 

 

Finally-  _finally!_ He deigned him with a response. “I think I’ll have other priorities out there, Lance.”

 

“Like living the intergalactic James Bond experience while the rest of us are planet-bound and bored out of our skulls without any Voltron action?”

 

“For the last time- I have no idea what you’re talking about when you reference twentieth century media. Who’s James Bond?”

 

Lance fiddled with his lighter before actually using it. He liked to watch the tiny, pocket-sized flame turn on and off at his command, like he was a pyromancer, controlling the elements and the situation. “An iconic film spy- real macho man. Wore a tuxedo, kept cool under pressure, and got a lot of... y'know, _action.”_

 

He hoped that slight pitch-shift in his voice didn’t register to Keith as he’d finished that sentence. Of the thousand things Lance was keeping silent behind gritted teeth, at the farthest back was that irritating fear that made him feel pathetic more than anything else. _What’ll happen to us when you’re out there for years, Keith? That’s a long time for you to meet someone better than me._

 

Lance swallowed the thought with his first drag. Keith nearly smiled at Lance’s description.

 

“Doesn’t sound much like me, besides the ‘spy’ part. I hate wearing tuxedoes.”

 

“Fair enough. You look stupid in them, anyways.”

 

“Hey!” Keith finally cracked and revealed a genuine smile. “At least I can wear a jacket that isn’t leather every once in a while.”

 

Lance grinned. He wanted to keep things like this- like nothing was changing, nobody was leaving, and they’d keep bantering like this tomorrow and each day after. He didn’t want to think about what was going on, and he wasn’t about to force it. Lance didn’t feel like it was real to him yet- that the one person he could count on _not_ to leave was going to pack up and soldier on into the great beyond, alone, fulfilling a hundred nightmares and unsettling idle thoughts.

 

_It was always going to happen, you know- it was just a matter of time. Why’d you think this time would be different? Why’d you think-_

 

Before he’d escaped the thought loop and come back down, Keith had saddled down next to him on the crate he was perched on. Put a hand on his- nearly anyone else doing this patronizing, pitying bullshit to him would’ve earned a resounding _fuck off._ But Keith was genuine when he did things like this. Genuine in his affection, no matter how irritating. Lance had hung onto that like a lifeline; that Keith _meant it,_ even now. It’s what had forged his iron-clad loyalty to him since they were cadets, the promise of someone who _wasn’t_ full of shit and really gave a damn about him.

 

Lance leaned onto Keith’s shoulder. He had been lying to himself- he wasn’t irritated. He was scared.

 

“I’m not going to be able to come back for a long time, but…” Keith paused. He had this habit of overthinking everything he said and stopping in the middle of sentences to recalibrate. Guess that’s why he’s the legendary strategist. “I’ll keep in touch with you all whenever I can, without putting you in any danger.”

 

Lance hummed his approval. They sat quietly for a moment, but Lance could feel the tension in Keith’s position, informing him that he was quietly calculating how to say something he wouldn’t like.

 

“Lance…” Here he goes. Lance wished he’d just rip the bandage off without the preamble for once. “I need to ask you to do something. I’ve already talked to Pidge and Hunk about this, but your position- I’ll need to re-position you. For this mission to work out.”

 

“Then tell me, already.” Keith should know by now that Lance wouldn’t hesitate to do what he asked. He trusted his decisions, just like always.

 

Keith bit his lip. It was unusual for him to let his feelings be known so obviously on his face, even alone with him. “I need you to occupy a high-ranking position at the GA Academy. You’ll have to publicly rebuff Voltron, give a good performance. Tell Wade what lowlife scum I am, how you’re on _his_ side of this whole ordeal.”

 

Lance’s stomach sank. “You want me to…”

 

“I know it’s an unpleasant job, but it has to be done. And…” Another fucking pause. Lance took another drag and tried his damndest to look disaffected. “You know- You have to know, Lance, I’m asking you to do this because there’s nobody else. You’re the only one I can ask this much of, that I can trust to carry this out for however long it takes.”

 

Lance exhaled a grey cloud of unspoken words. He waited. Didn’t trust himself not to crack if he opened his mouth.

 

Keith looked down, his nervousness palpable. Lance could stand the pain of opening his heart up if only for _him._

 

_He had to know that, right?_

 

“Do you really believe that, Keith? That I’m not gonna fuck this up for you and get you killed? You’re sure you want _me_ to handle the sensitive undercover shit where I have to pretend to hate you and kiss up to that fascist douchebag Wade without cracking?” Lance dropped the remainder of the cigarette and watched the embers glow against the concrete floor, fading slowly into ash.

 

Keith pulled him in. Lance could feel how fast his heart was beating. _Human after all, in there._

 

“I believe it more than anything.” 

 

Lance wasn’t much one for eye contact, but the way Keith was looking at him- so open and honest and _trusting-_ he felt something break down in his chest, or maybe burn away. He leaned in and let himself cry like some sentimental and weak idiot, felt Keith wrap his arms around him and stay there. _Stay there. Stay here._

 

“I’ll miss you,” Lance rasped, feeling too tired and miserable to be embarrassed about his vulnerability right now. Keith’d forget by the time he was offworld. He hoped. “I don’t want to lose you.”

 

“You won’t.” Keith loosened his hold long enough to rearrange their faces in parallel and kiss him so earnestly like they were still those awkward teenagers from however many years ago. “I promise you won’t.” Their noses pressed together like that optical illusion with the vase… “Do you believe me, Lance?”

 

He didn’t have to hesitate to reply.

 

“I do.”

 

 


End file.
